


between the gunshots

by fruitbattery



Series: The Mechanisms Microfictions [1]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, romance but only implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22917304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitbattery/pseuds/fruitbattery
Summary: A snapshot from the Moon War.
Relationships: Bertie & Gunpowder Tim
Series: The Mechanisms Microfictions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647193
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	between the gunshots

A shot pings off the wall three feet to Tim’s left, and he leaps back. He smacks right into Bertie, who he hadn’t noticed approaching, and bounces right off. 

“TIM! GOOD TO SEE YOU’RE ALIVE.” Bertie is shouting in his ear over the roiling chaos, and Tim can still barely hear him. Another shot sends an explosion of dirt and chips of stone directly into Tim’s face. _Too close._ Tim backs up rapidly, getting behind Bertie, and motions for him to follow. Together, they sprint back towards where they know their base is– they’ll have to find another line of attack, another shitty tight corridor to cram themselves down and attempt to get a good angle on the Lennies. _Fuck._

Tim falters after a few minutes of running– his vision is starting to be impaired by his own blood running down from his forehead. Tim tugs Bertie into an alcove and leans against the wall, breathing heavily and wiping ineffectually at his face.

“Shit, man, that’s a lot of blood. Hold on.” Bertie is fiddling with something Tim can’t see in the tight quarters, but a few seconds later there’s a tearing sound, and Bertie is triumphantly holding up a long strip of what looks like uniform cloth. “Hold still.” Bertie wraps the strip of cloth around Tim’s head with expert fingers, making sure to cover the worst of the wounds, and ties it tight enough to apply some pressure and hopefully staunch enough blood to get Tim to the medic. 

When he’s done with the knot, Bertie kisses Tim’s forehead and roughly pulls him in for a hug. This casual intimacy is nothing new, especially in stressful situations like active combat, but it warms Tim’s heart every time. His breathing now under control, Tim stands up straight and prepares to run on.

An all-too-familiar battle cry pierces the darkness, and a figure Tim recognizes as Private D’Ville comes barreling down the tunnel in the direction of the fighting. Before either Tim or Bertie can call out, he’s gone. “Fuckin’ Jonny. Fuck that guy,” gripes Bertie, and Tim has to agree. “What does he think he’s doing, rushing in like that? Gotta be the fifth, sixth time this month. Miracle he still comes back at the end of each day.” Tim mutters an agreement, and the pair begins to make their way back to base. Whatever the horrors of war, at least they won’t end up like _that_ particular reckless fucker.


End file.
